Zenna Vortex: Seasons of the West
by LA Knight
Summary: Edmund recounts to King Caspian why he never married while he was King of Narnia. Set during Voyage of the Dawn Treader.
1. Spring's Sailing

**Seasons Pass**

**Spring's Sailing**

"Your Highness," Caspian the Tenth murmurs to King Edmund. "I must ask..." He pauses for a moment, staring out over the waves as the Dawn Treader cuts through the water. "I have often wondered... why did none of you four ever marry? You ruled during the Golden Age of Narnia. The laws state that you need not have married a human. Surely any dryad or naiad or someone would have consented to be your spouse. Why then did you never marry?"

For a long time, Edmund does not answer. Memories of long ago bring to life an ache in his chest. For a moment, a stinging bitterness rears up inside him like a serpent. It is only the memory of Aslan's tears that help to soothe away that bitterness.

"Peter never married... well, the woman he loved... she was promised to another. That's another story altogether. Lucy was in love with someone, but she wasn't old enough to marry him before we left. Susan... I think Susan was waiting for some better looking than the princes that were offered. As for me..."

Again that burning fills his heart, that bitter pain of loss and regret. He had never forgiven himself, though even Aslan did not blame him. It was Lucy who eventually got him to come back from the depths of despair afterwards, but he was never the same. Not after what happened. Not after losing her to the Witch who was brought back the first time through black magic and Peter's pride, though it had been an accident. He had forgiven Peter. But not himself. Never himself. Not even now.

Closing his eyes against the sting of tears, he begins to tell the story to Caspian.

**Oo8oo8oo8oo8oo8oO**

**A/N: ****I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia. **I love comments and reviews. I love knowing what my readers think. So give me some loves!


	2. Winter's Dream

**Winter's Dream**

Alone.

That's what he thought when in the clutches of the White Witch. Not truly alone, but more alone in the way that really matters than he had ever been before. On all sides, he was surrounded by enemies- the Witch, her Dwarf servant, her Minotaur general, her army of dark creatures and accursed demons.

But he dreamed. When she would let him sleep, he dreamed the same dream over and over again. He stood beside a lion, a great kindly lion full of power, and he knew this lion was a king, a king of kings. His great, golden eyes filled him with hope, gave him comfort.

And walking toward him where he stood with this kingly lion, as if she had all the time in the world, was a girl. Her hair was a brilliant silver blond, like the Witch's hair. But this girl, her hair glittered like a thousand threads of living silk. It was different from the dull ice-whiteness of the Witch.

Her eyes, though... it was her eyes that drew him to her. Like the swirling of the sea, or the thundering rain clouds, or a rushing river... he couldn't describe them to save his life. But he didn't need to. It wasn't important to describe her. She merely was. That was all.

They walked together, not saying anything. He didn't need to speak to understand her, or to be understood by her. They watched the sun's dying rays light up the sea, and the swirling, pounding waterfalls that reminded him so much of her eyes.

That was in dreams. It gave him hope. He had to hold out, had to hope that one day, he would meet that lion... and the girl.

He clung to that hope when the Dwarf came at him with the stone knife, ready to slit his throat and kill him, spilling his blood and destroying any chance of the prophecy being fulfilled.

Edmund knows a secret. No one else alive, save Aslan and the Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea know this secret.

The Dwarf's hand was stayed by a knife's blade. In the dark, something gleamed like moonlight on pearl, and the Dwarf cried out in pain. The gleaming thing, a strange knife that glowed like milk and starlight, had missed anything important. All it needed, however, was one little cut, and the Dwarf dropped the stone knife he'd held and clasped his hand to his chest, yelling madly.

Then Edmund was rescued. It was the girl from his dreams that cut his bonds, and helped him to his feet. It was the girl who helped him mount a centaur with wild, dark eyes. She clambered up behind him, holding tightly to his torso as the centaur took off at a gallop.

"Who are you?" He cried.

"Ayadine," she replied over the rushing of the water. "Ayadine waBerun."

"Where are you taking me?"

"To Aslan," she said, and laid her cheek against his back.

"Aren't you worried about that knife?" He asked.

"Not really," she said. "Now keep your head down before you get hit by a tree branch."

He did as she said, and after a while, fell asleep on the centaur's back, lulled into slumber by the tune Ayadine was humming under her breath.

**Oo8oo8oo8oO**

"Ayadine waBerun?" Caspian asked. They were leaning against the wooden railing on the back of the Dawn Treader. "That's... doesn't waBerun mean 'of Beruna?' Was she human?"

"No," Edmund replied. He stared at the sea as it rushed past them. He could see Ayadine's eyes reflected in the ocean's depths. It made his heart tight in his chest, a cracking ache like shattering porcelain. "No, she wasn't. But it didn't matter. Aslan warned me to take care of her, but it was my own folly that let her..."

With a guttural cry of loathing and heartache, he threw himself away from the railing and raced down the stairs to his bunk. Throwing himself down upon it, he clenched one fist until his knuckles ached. He never wanted to remember Ayadine. Why did Caspian have to bring it up!?

But as he relaxed his hand, as he tried to calm himself, memory swamped him, and he could do nothing but let it have its way.


	3. A Breath of Spring

**A Breath of Spring**

He didn't want to tell her.

Aslan had said there was no reason to talk of what was past, that he never needed to reveal what the great lion had said to him. But he knew she would ask, and he most certainly did not want anyone to know, especially her.

Ayadine was walking toward him, her silver hair swirling around her in the wind. Every so often, she would stop and speak briefly with a member of Aslan's army. Oreius, the stern Centaur warrior that had carried Edmund on his back to safety at the Stone Table walked with her, speaking in a low voice. Edmund couldn't hear what it was they were saying. He could only watch the way Ayadine gestured with her slim hands, watch how the soft sunlight made something on her wrists and forearms glitter like coins in the sun. When she finally made it to his side, he saw that her wrists had something like fish scales sprayed over the fair skin, like another person would have freckles.

"Are you a mermaid?"

The question is out of his mouth before he can help himself. He ought to know better, he berates himself. She doesn't even have a tail, for goodness' sake. How could she be a mermaid?

"I'm a nymph," she says, holding out her hand. "Come with me."

He takes her hand, finds it soft and cool in his grasp. He can only watch the light play on the crystal pale strands of her hair as she leads him high upon the hills. She has a great thing to show him, and he wants to see, but he is afraid to be near her, afraid that he will blurt out the thing he doesn't want to tell her.

Just when he begins to sweat from the exertion, and he feels he must take his hand back to help him climb, they reach the top of where Ayadine has been leading him all this time. She sinks down to the grass, and pats the green growth beside her for Edmund to sit. He does, gingerly. It is like walking on shards of glass, or chips of ice. He doesn't know why he came, only that he had to go with her.

"Look," she whispers. It seems a place for whispering. "Do you see it?"

She points now, out to the East, where the sun is rising. Below their vantage point, the whole land of Narnia flows out before them, like a great and gentle river or lake. He follows where she points with his eyes, and sees something, a small white something that fills his heart with joy for a moment.

"Do you see it?"

He shook his head, and murmured, "Not very well. Sorry."

She reaches out, her fingertips brushing his thin, black eyebrows. She gently runs her fingers down over his eyelids, and something tingles through his face and behind his eyes.

"For just a moment, do not think. Feel. Become. See as I see. See through my eyes."

He opens up his eyes and looks again where she points. This time, the world is washed in tints of green and blue and pale aqua. It wavers and shifts, like looking through a rain-splashed window. With his new eyes, he sees the castle she is pointing at. It is colored like the shallows of a river, pale as air, sparkling with the morning light kissing every window like glimmering fish scales. Everything is sharper and clearer, and that new image of the castle lifts his spirits even more.

Then he feels lips on his cheek, right over the yellowed bruise where the White Witch struck him; a feather light touch over the cut that is there as well. He blinks and turns to Ayadine. But that blinking has restored his normal sight.

"Why did you..."

"I've always wanted to kiss a king," she murmurs shyly. "But... Edmund. King Edmund. Your Highness. I bring you here to lighten your heart. What troubles you? What is it?"

And suddenly he finds himself telling her everything, like an outpouring of poisonous guilt. He cannot stop himself, he has to tell her. He has to tell her everything, about the lying to Peter and Susan and letting Lucy down. About telling the Witch where his family was and how she tried to have them killed. How he'd been there when the Witch turned the little Christmas Party to stone, and the Fox as well, the first Narnian to call Edmund "Your Highness." How he'd seen Tumnus the Faun, seen what his own greed and envy at his siblings had cost the Faun. He tells her everything, and when he is finished, he weeps, and she draws his wet, tear-streaked face down onto her shoulder.

After he'd cried himself out, and been still for a time, did she murmur, "And this is why you will be a great King of Narnia, and a force to be reckoned with in the War against the Witch. This is why you are one of the Four, and no other. And this is why I am yours, my King. My just and righteous King."

He looks up into her face, into her eyes like swirling, jewel-like waters, and he knows that she speaks truth. He takes her hand, and she squeezes his in reassurance.

After a time, he feels her head on his shoulder, and it gives him peace.

**Oo8oo8oo8oO**

"Edmund?"

He looks over to see Lucy seated on the floor beside his bunk, looking up at him with her eyes dark and worried.

"What, Lu?"

"Will you be all right?"

He notices she doesn't ask him if he's all right at this moment. Of course he isn't. He can feel tears on his cheeks.

"I hope so, Lu. I really hope so."


End file.
